


What's Next

by sainnis



Series: Fellowes Mews [12]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:19:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sainnis/pseuds/sainnis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic takes place before Roy begins his campaign for Prime Minister.  Includes sex and arguments.  Much is owed to Aaron Sorkin and West Wing for this one. </p><p>This is the twelfth story in the Fellowes Mews series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Next

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nyagosstar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/gifts).



“You’re awake!” Ed reached out to pat Roy lightly on the head, mainly because he knew that it annoyed the crap out of him. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen into a coma.”

A feeble growl came from Roy’s side of the bed.

Ed wriggled closer beneath the blankets that Roy had stolen. There were times that Ed had considered stapling them to the mattress, but he had a feeling even that wouldn’t stop him. “When did you come in last night?”

“Mmm? Oh. It was after four sometime.” Roy stretched alongside him and exhaled, his breath warm against Ed’s shoulder. “Hughes wouldn’t shut up. Did you have fun with Al?”

“Yeah. Well, it’s probably not everyone’s brand of fun, but I know he appreciated the company.”

“What did you do?”

“The eating part was good. Really good. We’re so getting take-away from that new place on Rosedale. He’s got exams next week, though, so I got to quiz him on differential diagnoses for the digestive system. You want to know how long your small intestine is?”

“No.”

“Twenty feet.” 

Roy made a face. “That’s great.”

Pressing his back against Roy’s chest, Ed sighed with relief as the chill in his muscles dissipated. “God, you’re warm. I wonder if it’s because of all the blankets generously donated by the Edward Elric Society for the Preservation of Flame Alchemists.”

Roy chuckled, the sound muffled as he kissed the nape of Ed’s neck. “For only a few cens a day, you too can save an Alchemist.”

A retort was forming on Ed’s tongue, but Roy’s hand slipped up Ed’s shirt, and he promptly forgot it. Fingertips strayed along the juncture of his automail and flesh, and Ed found himself closing his eyes, his breathing a little faster. The skin there was incredibly sensitive, and Roy pulled down the collar of Ed’s shirt to give his mouth access, his tongue almost hot as it bathed the scarred skin. 

Ed gasped, followed by a short laugh. “Am I dreaming, or am I being seduced by the laziest man in Amestris?”

“You’re not dreaming. And I’m not the laziest, or otherwise I wouldn’t be seducing anyone.” Roy found the edge of Ed’s shirt, pulling it over his head, and dropped it on the floor, like he did with every article of clothing that he came in contact with.

Roy straddled Ed’s hips, his hands running up and down the length of Ed’s torso as he leaned forward, kissing Ed hard on the mouth. There was an odd sort of fierceness in his kiss, a strange blend of urgency and necessity, which would have made sense if they were somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, like the quick fucks they used to have in Roy’s old office. They didn’t have to be anywhere today, though, and it was morning. Roy never hurried in the morning; he liked to take his own fucking time and mess around for fucking ever until Ed was panting and coming apart at the seams.

Ed stopped kissing him long enough to speak. “What’s with you?”

Roy had already started sucking on the base of his throat, which made Ed glad that he wasn’t teaching this semester, because he’d gotten sick of the weird looks his students had given him. Ed, for his part, always kept his marks below the collar, because he had enough self-restraint to keep Roy from getting in trouble. Roy, on the other hand, had always had a problem with self-restraint.

“There’s nothing with me. I want you to fuck me. Isn’t it obvious?” Roy’s mouth migrated south, his tongue and teeth circling Ed’s left nipple. 

The pressure of Roy’s body against his, the weight of him, was already enough to get Ed hard. He ran his fingers up Roy’s arms, feeling the muscle twitch under the skin. “Then take your pants off.”

Roy complied, and Ed followed suit, aware that Roy’s eyes were roaming over him, taking him in. Lying on his back, Roy looked up at him, a faint grin on his swollen lips. His arms were slack at his sides, palms up, his chest rising and falling with his quick breaths. Ed straddled him this time, smoothing his hands over the plane’s of Roy’s flesh. A few rippled scars shone pink along his pale skin, and flashes of blue came through at his wrists and elbows in delicate traceries of veins. These were the frailties that only he saw, the remnants of old wounds, the fragile pulse points. He loved seeing them, because he knew he was the only one that did, and because it made their bodies seem more similar than different. He kissed the scars, grateful for them, and traced his automail fingers over the fluttering pulse at Roy’s throat.

Roy’s hands came around the back of his neck, pulling him closer until they were kissing again, bodies pressing tighter until their cocks brushed against each other, making Ed shudder just a little. Ed sucked in a breath before asking, “You want me to—“

“Fuck yes.” Roy pressed a bottle of lube into Ed’s hand, and Ed wondered, not for the first time, if someone Roy knew in the military was good at magic tricks, because he had the uncanny ability to pull the damn things out of the air seemingly at will. 

Small words fell out of Roy’s mouth as Ed eased one finger, then two inside of him. “Ed…fuck…yes…shit…” It was a good thing, he thought, that the words Roy liked the best were monosyllabic. Roy’s body twitched beneath of him, his head tilted up towards the ceiling, his cock throbbing.

His words weren’t words anymore, just hissed breaths. “Ed…just…please…”

He said nothing, and instead thrust into Roy, gasping as the heat and tight and ohgod surrounded him to the point that he was certain that there wasn’t enough air in the room. And then he moved, and Roy rocked back and they were both panting, mouths open as they tried to force oxygen into their blood. Roy’s hands were everywhere, in his hair, against his thighs, and Ed’s automail arm held him up as his flesh hand palmed Roy’s cock, stroking him until he was no longer sure which one of them was going to come first. 

It turned it out it was him after all, his back arching and his hips shuddering against Roy until he was spent, his head falling forward. Sudden heat seared his stomach and chest as Roy followed after, muttering more of his favorite words. 

“Your vocabulary,” Ed said, breathing unevenly, “sort of falls apart when we fuck.”

“Who cares?”

“Just thought you should know.” Ed let his body fall slightly forward, and Roy held him up, his palms pressed comfortably against Ed’s chest. 

“Listen,” Roy said, blinking a few strands of hair out of his eyes. “Hughes and I were talking last night, and there is something I wanted to run by you.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to run for Prime Minister.”

Ed froze, his breath stuck halfway down his throat. It was a good thing, he realized much later, that Roy was holding him up, because he wouldn’t have been able to do it himself. 

“Ed?” Roy looked up at him, concerned. “I think your heart just skipped.”

Ed pulled away from him, pulled out of him, separated himself far enough that he couldn’t feel Roy’s warmth anymore. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Hughes knows somebody who is someone’s assistant on to the head of Parliament, and they’re making the announcement tomorrow. They’re putting forth the position of Prime Minister, because no one wants a Furher again. Amestris is going to elect a Prime Minister.” Roy’s voice grew a little stronger. “I’m going to run.”

“You and Hughes decided this?”

“No. I decided. Hughes just gave me a heads-up.”

“Well, fuck, Roy! And this is you giving me a heads-up? Throwing it in after sex so hopefully I don’t notice that even though I just fucked you, you kind of fucked me back, and not in the good way?”

“I just found out last night! Do you wish I would have shaken you awake to have a political discussion in the middle of the night?”

Ed yanked the duvet away from Roy, wrapping it around himself. “Yes! This is the kind of conversation that we need to have regardless of what time it is! And it’s not the kind that you have with fucking Hughes behind my back.”

Roy did not like the combination of the word ‘fucking’ in relation to ‘Hughes,’ and his expression made that clear. “You’re right. It’s a conspiracy. Everyone’s out to get you, especially me and more than anyone, Maes Hughes. The man who took you and your brother in when you had nowhere to go. He’s got it out for you for sure.”

“This is you fucking running this by me? As if what I think means anything. You don’t give a shit what I think.”

“I absolutely give a shit, because it’s going to change our lives forever if I get elected.”

Ed narrowed his eyes. “Our lives? As in you and me? What kind of drugs did Hughes give you that are letting you believe there can still be any kind of ‘you and me’ if you run for Prime Minister?”

“Nobody cares who I fuck. And let them talk if they want.”

Ed pressed his hands over his eyes, feeling like his head was going to split in half. Could it have been only five minutes ago that he was basking in the glow of highly satisfactory morning sex? “They’re not going to care that the former General of the Amestris Army is fucking the Alchemist of the People?”

“Please. Bradley wasn’t even human.”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t elected! It was a military coup.”

“Hughes knows some very good PR people. He’s not worried.”

“You two are both suffering from delusions of grandeur. If you’re running for Prime Minister, then the best thing I can do for you is move to the other side of the country. Or maybe leave the country. Did I mention that Al is going to have you killed? Tortured first, naturally, and then killed?”

Roy took a long breath, and then reached out a hand, resting it tentatively on Ed’s shoulder. “We’re going to be okay. You’re freaking out. And it’s okay that you’re freaking out.”

“You don’t know that!” Ed shrugged off his touch, pulling the blanket more tightly around himself. God, it was cold in here. “You’re talking out of your ass now, which is a good thing you know how to do since you want to be a politician so badly.”

“You knew this was something I wanted. Something I’ve always wanted. As long as you’ve known me, you’ve known this about me.”

“People say a lot of things. They say they want things, they want to do things, but they don’t really mean it. Al still says he wants to fix me. He’s not going to be able to. I know that. I’m okay with that. He still says it. But he doesn’t mean it, because he can’t mean it, and that’s okay too.”

“I promised.” Roy stared at Ed, and Ed found himself staring back. “I promised myself. And Hughes. And everyone, living and dead. After Ishbal I promised myself that this was never going to happen again. I would not allow it. I promised that if I were at the top, then I would look after my subordinates, and they’d look after theirs, and so on down the line until everyone had the support they needed. I made promise, Ed. I know you understand the gravity of that.”

Ed looked away from him, and he saw a bit of white on the floor of the bedroom. “What’s that?”

“It’s nothing,” Roy muttered. 

Climbing stiffly to his feet, Ed walked over to it, bending over to pick up a white napkin. He turned it over in his hands, and on the opposite side, in bold black ink, someone had written ‘Mustang for Prime Minister.’

The words looked like they made sense together. It was horrifying and yet strangely reassuring at the same time. 

“Hughes wrote this?”

“Yeah.” Roy shrugged. “It’s kind of how he told me about the whole thing.”

Ed stared down at the napkin in his hands, reading the words again. “You sure this is what you want?”

“I made a promise,” Roy said softly.

“But is it what you want?”

“It is.”

Ed exhaled, feeling a little of his anger slide out with his breath. “Okay.” He returned to the bed, holding out the napkin to Roy. “So what’s next?”


End file.
